Before you knew
Someone warned you once.
Said the words clearly. Calmly.
You nodded like you understood.
You didn't.
Understanding isn't hearing.
It's surviving the proof.
We learn fire burns by getting too close.
And then we blame ourselves for not knowing sooner.
But you can't carry what you haven't lived.
The weight wouldn't have meant anything yet.
The person who didn't know isn't your enemy.
They're the reason you finally do.
Some lessons only arrive as scars. We blame ourselves for not knowing sooner. But you can't carry what you haven't lived.
